To Be A Hero
by theSardonyx
Summary: What does it mean to be a hero? A talk with a mysterious man with sharp blue eyes and a red mask makes America rethink on his definition of a hero.


**/ First crossover, yay.! Splendid and America would be terribly OoC. Sorry. /**

TO BE A HERO

America always jogged in the morning, just before sunrise when the people are just starting to awaken. He'd always enjoyed the scenery-the green cyprus trees lining the edge of the town park, the vibrant yellow, orange, and red flowers dotting the bushes on the side of the road. And then there was the beautiful marble fountain in the center of the park-two sculpted fish dancing and playing with the water.

He usually sat on the bench overlooking the entire park after his morning jog. It was always empty; there weren't a lot of people except those who took jogs like he did. Today, however, there was a man in blue sweatpants and jersey sitting on his usual spot. He had messy blue hair and a red eyemask. His eyes were closed, but his posture wasn't relaxed at all.

America was intrigued, to say the least. The man didn't feel like one of his citizens; in fact, he didn't even feel human. Then there's the eyemask that the man wore... It's like he was a hero. But does a hero wear sweatpants and jerseys like a casual jogger?

"Hey there," America greeted cheerfully. The man opened his eyes and America was met with observing blue eyes. _Too much blue on just one person_, America thought.

Silence stretched between them as the man didn't reply. He simply stared at America warily.

"Who are you?" America tried again.

"Splendid," the man replied. "You?"

America frowned. "I asked who you are, not how you are."

"And I answered," the man-Splendid-said tiredly.

"Right..." America said, rolling his eyes. "My name's Alfred F. Jones. And I'm a HERO!" At that, he did his signature "hero pose".

Splendid smiled bitterly. "And I suppose you're proud of that?"

"Alfred" frowned. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Splendid stood up and stared at America's eyes, sharp blue meeting confused ones. The breeze gently blew his blue hair, but there was an air of melancholy, and even though America had always been told that he couldn't read the atmosphere, this time, he was sure that there's something within those vigilant blue eyes, perhaps a reason for the mask, a reason for his tense posture, or a reason for the tired tone in his voice whenever he replied.

"What does it mean," Splendid asked. "to be a hero?"

"A hero helps those who are in need," America automatically said, for this was something that he believed with all his heart.

Splendid gave him a sad smile. "You say you are a hero. Have you helped those who are in need?"

America stopped to think. "The world depends on me for a lot of things, particularly regarding their economy. I save them from going on depression, see."

"Is that it?"

America was taken-aback. "I help the world with..."

"What about people?"

America was confused. "Aren't I indirectly helping people?"

Splendid sat back down with a huff, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Murders, burglaries, kidnappings, arson, suicides... Need I say more?"

America stayed silent. He understood where Splendid was getting at. But what's the point of that? Humans will die sooner or later. Because that's all they are. Humans with their short lifespans.

"Everyone dies in the end," he muttered softly, his voice catching in the wind.

Splendid hummed in agreement. "Yes, but it doesn't mean they are not in need, yes?"

"What is a hero then?" America asked.

"I wouldn't know," Splendid said, a small sad smile on his face, his blue eyes pained. "I'm no hero."

America stayed silent.

"I help people. I save them from dying once but..." Splendid paused. "Like you said, everyone dies in the end."

America still didn't utter a word.

"I'd like to think that I'm a hero too. I always try my best to help. I always try to protect the weak. But in the end, it won't really matter."

"A hero..." America started. Splendid looked up at him with an eyebrow raised, urging him to continue. " A hero protects what is important to them."

It was Splendid's turn to remain silent.

"I guess to be a hero, you don't have to save everyone. I suppose heroes like those only exist in comic books and cartoons," America sighed. "I guess to be a hero means to save the people who you understand needs you the most."

Splendid let out a breath. "You mean that a hero belongs not to the world, but to his loved ones?"

America nodded. "Yeah, I suppose." Then he frowned. "Though I suppose going by that logic means that I'm no hero either."

Splendid's lips twitched into a smile, one of sincere appreciation. "Perhaps, but you don't need to be a hero to help people."

He stood up and put his hands in his pockets, the smile not leaving his face. "I guess that's one thing that you have that I don't, which makes you more qualified to help others."

"What is?" America asked.

Splendid simply closed his eyes. "Because while I can save people one time and wish they don't go through misfortune again, you can help them prevent getting themselves into it in the first place." After that, he disappeared, leaving a lingering thanks in the wind to reach America's ears.

America closed his eyes and he collapsed on the bench that Splendid once occupied. There were people milling around already, the sun bright in the sky and the birds flying high above.

Splendid was wrong. He had it too; he just didn't realize it. It was America who should say his thanks.

"Thanks, Splendid."

And so he did.

**/ Deep stuff, yeah. Please review.! :D /**


End file.
